The Hidden Side
by I'm The Night Writer
Summary: Chapter 5 is up! A series of Oneshots about the little things we didn't know about Willie Loomis,,,Please R&R! Hope you enjoy!
1. The Piano

**The Hidden Side**

**A/N: Just a short Oneshot I came up with, don't ask me how. . .**

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It was nearing six o'clock, and Willie was cleaning the Old House Library. He walked over to the old piano and began to polish it with a wood cleaner when he felt the longing to play. Something he hadn't done in a long time. He threw a cautious glance at the door, and listened to make sure Barnabas wasn't up, then sat down on the stool, and began to softly play, _'Moonlight Sonata'_ by Ludwig Van Beethoven.

As he played, memories of his mother, sitting with him at their small piano, teaching him in her kind way. Teaching him pieces such as _'Fur Elise'_ and _'Waltz in A Minor'_ . . . he remembered the night she came home, and told them all she was pregnant. The night that she told Willie that he would be a big brother. They were all so happy, just as a family should be.

But a week later everything changed. His mother came home from a doctors appointment and found out that the baby had miscarried. He remembered his father had been so devastated that he started drinking, and was becoming violent . . . Willie shut his eyes and breathed in deeply, letting the music fill him and drown all other thoughts from his mind.

As he played the song's final notes, there was a voice behind him, "Well now Willie, you never told me that you played the piano."

Willie jerked his hands away from the piano and whipped his head around. He shakily stood up, "B-Barnabas, I-I'm sorry. I shouldna touched it."

Barnabas ignored Willie's comment, "What else can you play, Willie?" he asked

Willie looked at him with a perplexed look, "Huh . . .?"

"You heard me." Barnabas snapped

"W-well, Ma taught me alotta things, I-I can't rememba the names of 'em all." Willie replied

Barnabas' voice was unusually quiet as he spoke, "Play me something."

"W-what?"

"Play me something Willie, anything." Barnabas growled back

"Alright, alright." Willie said, sitting back down. He thought for a moment before playing, _'Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring' _by Johann Sebastian Bach.

The Vampire sat down in one of the chairs and closed his eyes, allowing the music to fill his senses.

Willie had begun to feel a little more nervous, playing in Barnabas' presence, but he ignored it and music once again began to take over.

All the while, the song seemed to float through the room and seemed to bring for the first and only time, a peace between Master and Servant . . .

**Fin**

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**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please review!**


	2. The House

Chapter 2: The House

A/N: Yea, I know this was supposed to be a Oneshot, but I decided I would make it a series of Oneshots about the little things we didn't know about Willie Loomis. Hope you enjoy it!

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Willie sat down for the first time all day. In fact, it was the first time in a long time that he was done with his work, Barnabas wasn't going to up for at least an hour, and he had some free time, all to himself. But the only problem was, he didn't know what to do.

He took a glance around the room and spied a notepad and pencil on the desk. He reached over and grabbed the items off the desk, and began to idly sketch a picture of the house he grew up in back in Brooklyn, New York.

The house was by no means fancy, but it wasn't a shack either. It was simple, on the outside the house was a blue-ish grey color, with a wood fence, fresh cut green grass, a big tree . . . an average home. On the inside, three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and a nice parlor-type room.

Willie looked at the paper, without looking at it. He began to sketch a little more wildly, drawing the picture exactly how he had remembered it.

Remembering the times him and friend would be running around outside the house, playing Cowboys and Indians, or going into the 'No Girls Allowed' tree-house. But good memories weren't the only things, there were bad ones that lingered like shadows . . .

Ever since Willie's mother had died, his dad started drinking . . . a lot. Which meant he'd beat Willie in a rage every night. Willie would go to school everyday bearing the marks of the night before, with all the teachers afraid to do anything about it.

One night, when Willie became old enough to defend himself, he dealt his father a hard right hook in the eye during a beating, packed his things and ran away, soon to run into man named Jason McGuire . . . who would become the beginning of his troubles.

Willie shook his head, and looked at the finished result, picturing the colors on the house and lawn as he did . . . why he chose to draw his house he didn't know.

He scoffed at his drawing, "Come on Loomis, ya can't draw well an' you know it." he muttered to himself. Just then there was knock at the door. He shot up from his chair, at the unexpected noise and looked out the window. It was Julia Hoffman. "Hullo, Dr. Hoffan." he greeted

"Hello Willie. How are things?" Julia asked as Willie held the door open for her and she stepped inside.

"Fine I guess. Barnabas wasn't up yet an' I was jus' . . . uh, sittin' and restin'." he replied

"Oh, I'm sorry I disturbed you! What's that in your hand Willie?" she asked, nodding toward the notepad his still had in his hand.

"Huh?! Oh, that . . . I was jus' doin' a little drawin' thats all."

Julia smiled, "Really? I didn't know you could draw! Let me see it." she said

"I-it's nothin' really . . . I'm not even that good."

"Oh stop, just let me see." she said, holding out her hand

"Well, alright." Willie muttered, reluctantly handing the notepad over to Julia.

"Oh Willie! This is wonderful! I guess there's a lot about you that I still don't know."

Willie nodded, "Yea . . . yea there's a lot about me that you don't know . . ."

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Hope you liked this chapter . . . Please R&R!


	3. I Finally Did Somethin' Right

Chapter 3: "I Finally Did Somethin' Right"

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"Willie! Come down here!" Barnabas shouted loudly up the stairs

"I'm comin' Barnabas." Willie's muffled voice called back, as he loudly came down the stairs,

"What's wrong?" he asked

"Nothing," Barnabas replied, "in fact I have some good news."

"What's that?"

"We are going to have a party here at the Old House. It will be a costume party."

Willie looked surprised, "A party? Here?"

"That's right. It will be in one week, so you need to start getting more of the repairs completed and also be thinking about preparing hors d'oeuvres." he said

That meant cooking. Willie hadn't cooked in years. Oh he knew how, since his father used to be a cook in the Army, but he couldn't remember the last time he made a meal. Lately he had gotten into the habit of throwing a can of soup on the stove, if he was hungry enough to eat at all.

"A-alright." Willie stuttered, "Is there anything in particula' you want me ta make?"

"No, just simply use your imagination, but make them good. I will not have this party ruined because of your cooking." Barnabas said, "Oh and I forgot to mention, I will need you to dress your part as well, I'm sure we have an old servant suit somewhere."

"But, Barnabas I'm not family I shouldn't be dressin' up." he complained

"You will do as I say, and you will be wearing a costume." Barnabas said forcefully

"Ok." Willie sighed, knowing it was useless to argue, "Barnabas, do ya think it's safe? I mean, all

of the Collins' comin' over here like that . . ."

Barnabas cut in mid-way through Willie's sentence, "I have everything under control, Maggie is no longer here. Now just do as your told!"

"Ok," Willie said, "I'll start gettin' on things."

Barnabas nodded, "Good . . . I wish for everything to be immaculate. Nothing must go wrong."

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So, starting that night and continuing all that week, Willie worked doubly hard getting things done. Fixing various broken furniture, sending the carpets and drapes to get cleaned, and facing his most challenging problem . . . what to do about appetizers.

With his mom baking, and his dad cooking, he racked his brain of things they would have done.

"Come on Willie, think o'the basics." he told himself, while puzzling over the problem in his room with the party two days away. "Let's see, they probably woulda made some kinda bread, and maybe put out a dessert." Then it struck him . . . _that was it! _

He would make those little Italian breads with the tomato topping, (called Crostini, but Willie didn't remember at the time), maybe some of those really good jelly topped cookies that his mom used to bake, and put out a platter of fruit and a bowl of mixed nuts out. _"Yea," _he thought, _"that would be just right."_ He then grabbed the pen and notebook sitting by his bed and began scribbling down the ingredients he would be needing.

The next morning, Willie left the house, dropped off the costumes at the New House and went to the store to buy the ingredients he needed: a bag of mixed nuts, a random selection of fruit (grapes, cantaloupe, watermelon, ect . . .), tomatoes, mozzarella cheese, bread, basil leaves, olives, oil, brown sugar, shortening, butter, vanilla, strawberry and boysenberry jam, eggs, and flour.

After this, he rushed home, put the items away, and finished sweeping, dusting, and washing out dishes and cups. He needed to get as much of the other work done as possible, because tomorrow, he would need most of the afternoon to cook and get the appetizers and drinks ready.

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The next day . . . the morning of the party . . .

After Willie woke the next morning, he decided to finally just sit down, have a little breakfast and some coffee. He hadn't eaten much breakfast that week because of all of the work that needed to be done. But, since there was less work that needed doing, he put on some coffee and cooked himself a scrambled egg with a piece of toast with butter.

He ate slowly, remembering how his mother and father used to cook the food that he was to prepare . . .

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"Willie, be careful when you stir, you don't want to get brown sugar all over the sink." his mother told the young boy as he concentrated very hard on not spilling anything on the counter.

"There, very good. Now, take little bits of the batter and roll them in your hands, making a little ball, then put the ball on the cookie sheet." Willie did as his mother instructed, placing nice sized dough-ball drops onto the foil sitting on the sheet.

"Now what you do, is you take your second finger make a little indent in the middle of each dough-ball. Then take the jelly and put a little bit of it in each indent" She said, chuckling as she watched Willie's facial expressions. His tongue was sitting on his top lip and his eyes were glued on his task.

When he was done, they popped the sheet in the oven and let the cookies bake. Willie then looked up at his mom, "Hey ma, is it ok if I lick the bowl now?"

His mother let out a beautiful bell-like laugh, "Of course Willie." she replied, "Of course."

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Willie smiled he looked at the large mixing bowl laced on the sides with cookie-dough, now sitting in his hands. Willie couldn't help himself as he grabbed the spoon next to him and began scraping the remaining dough off of the bowl and slowly putting it into his mouth. Willie figured he had a right to, he knew he wouldn't be eating any tonight. Well, maybe one of the cookies and one of the Crostini when they were done, just to make sure they tasted alright. But if he couldn't really enjoy his own cooking, he could at least lick the bowl.

After he was done, he pulled out a small serving table, and gently draped a long, pretty doilie Barnabas had picked out, on top. He then pulled out the punch bowl, platters, cups, dishes, and napkins and placed them on the table, arranging them in an orderly fashion.

He then, got on his costume. It was a typical male servant's costume from the period. He felt highly uncomfortable wearing it, but it was either that, or an angry Barnabas . . . and he chose the outfit. By this time, the food was done, and he left them in the oven to stay warm, made the punch, and waited.

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It's party time . . .

By the time the party started, Willie was drained. He had worked non-stop for a solid week on this, and so far Barnabas was getting all the credit. That was the only thing that irked Willie about doing work around the Old House; he never got credit for any of it, Barnabas did.

He gave a quiet sigh as another comment was made to Barnabas by Carolyn, "Oh Barnabas, where did you get these cookies?" she asked

Barnabas smiled slightly, thinking that the cookies weren't good, "I didn't buy them, Willie made them. Didn't you Willie?" he said, glancing over to Willie, who glanced back with a surprised look at his master. "Yea, yea I made 'em." he replied with a worried look at Carolyn. Willie actually didn't think they tasted that bad, in fact they were quite good if he did say so himself. "Th-they were my ma's recipe." he stuttered

Carolyn, along with the all of the other guests (who had also heard this remark), were quite surprised at this.

"You mean, that you did this yourself?" Elizabeth Collins asked,

Willie nodded dumbly and Elizabeth raised another question, "Did you make the Crostini's too?"

"Yea I did. I used to help dad make 'em all time growin' up." he replied

"Well, everything is delicious Willie. You did a wonderful job." Vicki commented, the rest of the company nodded and murmured in agreement, looking over and flashing the occasional smile at him, than slowly began to continue with their normal conversation.

"Willie, refill our guests' drinks I would like to propose a toast." Barnabas, a hint of coldness behind his voice.

Willie did as he was bidden, smiling inwardly to himself, _"I finally got credit fer somethin' I did," _he thought, _"I finally did somethin' right."_


	4. A Different Language

A/N: Ok, this one took awhile. If anyone speaks fluent German and I made mistakes, please let me know!!

Here is a translation of the German in this story. I figured it would be best to put it at the beginning. The **Bold **and _Italics _is the German man, and the underlined is Willie. The top phrase is the German translation and the bottom is what it means in English.

**"Ich spreche nicht Englisch, Fräulein."**

**I don't speak English, Miss.**

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**"Sie sprechen Deutsches?"**

**You speak German?**

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**"Ja. Ich übersetze zur Kellnerin für Sie. Was wurden Sie mögen, Sir?"**

**Yes. I'll translate to the waitress for you. What would you like, Sir?**

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**"Ich möchte ein Truthahnsandwich und eine Schale Kaffee."**

**I would like a turkey sandwich and a cup of coffee**

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**"Wurde Sie mögen eine Schüssel selbstgemachte Kartoffelsuppe die mit dem Sandwich kommt?"**

**Would you like a bowl of homemade potato soup that comes with the sandwich?**

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_**"Ja, bitte." **_

_**Yes, please. **_

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**"Und wie wurde Sie mögen Ihren Kaffee?"**

**How would you like your coffee?**

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**"Gerechtes Schwarzes."**

**Just black.**

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**"O.K., gerade eine Minute."**

**Ok. Just a minute.**

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**"Danke für was Sie für mich taten, Junge. Was ist Ihr Name?"**

**Thank you for what you did for me, boy. What is your name?**

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**"Es Ist Willie."**

**It's Willie.**

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**Sie sind ein guter Mann, Willie. Ich kann es sehen. ****(You will find out the translation for this one at the end of the chapter) **

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**"Danke. Vielen Dank, Sir." **

**Thanks. Thank you very much, Sir.**

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* * *

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**Chapter 4: A Different Tongue.**

"I'm sorry sir, but I can't understand you." Willie heard the waitress, Maggie Evans say, as he walked into the small diner. _"Oh, man. I was hopin' she wouldn't be workin' taday." _he thought, but just as he turned to leave, he heard the man whom Maggie was having trouble with, say "Ich spreche nicht Englisch, Fräulein." he said in German

"Aw, now that's just great." Willie thought with a shake of his head, _"Out of all the languages to speak in, it had to one I knew. Jus' go help 'er Loomis, git it ova' with." _with that, he blew a deep breath, turned from the door, and walked into the main dining area. 

"Sir I-" Maggie stopped abruptly when she noticed Willie walking in, "Oh. Willie. What're you doing here?" she asked in a polite yet emotionless tone.

"Well, I-I came in here for some lunch, an' I heard you were havin' trouble ova' here an' I thought I'd let you know that he's sayin' he can't speak English." Willie replied

"You can understand him?" Maggie asked in a perplexed voice

Willie nodded, "Yea. He's speakin' in German. Hold on, I'll see what he want's for ya. Sir?"

"Sie sprechen Deutsches?" the man asked

"Ja. Ich übersetze zur Kellnerin für Sie. Was wurden Sie mögen, Sir?" Willie asked

The man replied with, "Ich möchte ein Truthahnsandwich und eine Schale Kaffee."

Willie nodded and turned to Maggie, "He say's he would like the Turkey Sandwich and a cup of coffee."

"Alright." Maggie said, writing his order down in her notepad, "Would you mind asking him if would like our homemade Potato soup that goes with the sandwich?"

"Sure." Willie said, "Wurde Sie mögen eine Schüssel selbstgemachte Kartoffelsuppe die mit dem Sandwich kommt?"

"Ja, bitte."

"Und wie wurde Sie mögen Ihren Kaffee?"

"Gerechtes Schwarzes."

"O.K., gerade eine Minute." Willie turned his head, "He say's he'll take the soup an' he wants his coffee black."

"Ok." -she finished writing the order in her book- "How did you learn that language, Willie? I never knew you spoke German." Maggie said

"My grandad on my ma's side was a German, an' he taught the language to my ma who taught it ta me."

"Oh, wow. That's neat Willie."

Willie nodded slightly and mumbled, "Thanks."

She was just turning around to place the order when she turned around, "Oh, Willie . . . Thank you." she said, flashing a grateful smile toward him

Willie returned a half-smile back, and was just about to get up when the German man stopped him, "Danke für was Sie für mich taten, Junge. Was ist Ihr Name?"

"Es Ist Willie."

"Sie sind ein guter Mann, Willie. Ich kann es sehen."

"Danke. Vielen Dank, Sir." Willie said with a small smile at the man, and a tiny hint of happiness hidden behind his eyes.

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Willie never did eat lunch at the diner. For soon after this, he left and began walking back to the Old House, with the parting words the German man had said running thru his mind._"Sie sind ein guter Mann, Willie. Ich kann es sehen."_

_"You are a good man, Willie. I can see it."_

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A/N: Please R&R! Only three . . . possibly four chapters left to go!


	5. The Poet

Hey Everyone! Guess What? I'M NOT DEAD! I'M STILL HERE! I know it's been forever and a day since you've heard from me, but it's not over! I have unfinished stories that need finishing! Soooo here is the next chappie to The Hidden Side! I will be posting more to my other stories soon!

This is a song-fic using the song 'Heaven' by Los Lonely Boys

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_**Save me from this prison, Lord help me get away. Cause only you can save me now from this misery . . .**_

Willie was upset. The night before, Barnabas and he had heard the news that Maggie Evans was dead. And while Willie was feeling guilty and responsible, his master was already making plans for a new Josette. To Willie, it seemed only someone like Barnabas could be so heartless. And that thought angered Willie, so much so that he could hardly sleep, and the next morning he felt the need to simply go somewhere private and let his feelings out. So that very same morning, he snatched up the list Barnabas made him, stuffed it in his pocket, and left the house in a huff, going to the only place where he knew he would be alone . . . Widows Hill.

_**I've been lost in my own place and I'm gettin' weary . . .**_

Willie parked his cream-colored, '65 Chevy truck to the side of the road and stepped out onto the beaten dirt path, walking slowly towards the roar of the waves.

_**How far is Heaven? . . . **_

When he reached the edge of the cliffs, he sat down on a nearby rock, clasped his hands in front of him and rested his elbows on his knees. He closed his eyes and breathed in the salt air deeply, trying to clear his head . . . but thoughts of all the wrong he had done in the past few months all flooded back to haunt him . . .

_**And I know that I need to change, my ways of livin',**_

_**How far is Heaven? Lord can you tell me?**_

Flashes of Maggie pleading with him to let her go, and the look of anger and betrayal on her face when he told her that Barnabas would kill them both if he did. He remembered the poison he almost let her drink before she escaped, and the time he had to hold her back while she painfully watched her father and boyfriend mourn over her disappearance and supposed death.

_**I've been locked up way too long in this crazy world . . . **_

He dropped his head in his hands and let out a helpless whimper as he desperately tried to hold back the bitter tears that wanted to let themselves go . . . so Willie gave in, and he allowed the tears he had held back for so long run freely down his face.

_**And I just keep on prayin' Lord, and just keep on livin' . . .**_

"_It shouldna been her." _he thought, _"She didn't do anything ta deserve her dying." _after he said this in his mind, he heard another voice in his head, _"She was going to die anyway, she was a threat to my existence, and we couldn't have that now could we?" _Barnabas' voice told him. "No!" Willie shouted aloud, as he clamped both of his hands over his ears and fell off the rock to his knees on the ground, "Stop!! Git outta my mind! Stop it!!" he cried, his fingernails beginning to dig into his scalp. When he felt the stinging he carefully released his hands and took a few ragged breaths. He shakily placed himself back on the rock and simply stared out at the vast open sea.

_**How far is Heaven? Lord can you tell me? . . .**_

After only a moment, he felt the oddest urge . . . he felt the need to write. He _had _to write down the words that were forming in his head. So he quickly pulled out the pen in the breast pocket of his shirt and began scrounging around in his pockets for some form of paper, when he found the list that Barnabas had given him. _"This'll work."_ He thought, as he turned the paper over to reveal it's blank side and began writing, while a few leftover tears that he had failed to wipe away, plopped onto the page.

_**Tu que estas en alto cielo, echame tu bendiciòn . . .**_

He was just finishing his writing, and failed to hear the footsteps that were steadily approaching him.

"Willie?" a soft female voice asked

Willie jumped at the surprise guest, "Wha . . .? Oh Ca-Carolyn, it's jus' you." he said, relief briefly crossing his features, "What're ya doin' up here?"

"I just couldn't stay at the house anymore, so I came up here to clear my head. The whole house has gone into a depression after hearing about what happened to Maggie."

_**Cause I know there's a better place than this place I'm livin' . . .**_

"Yea, I–I'ts awful it had ta end that way, ya know, without eva' knowin' what happened to 'er." he said, keeping his guilt-full eyes diverted from Carolyn's.

"I know. I hope they catch the Madman who did this!" she said with an anger that slowly turned into fear, "I'm sorry Willie. But things have been so frightening lately . . . Oh, I just want all of this to end!"

_**How far is Heaven? . . .**_

"Yea-yea, me too." Willie agreed looking down at the paper that he still held loosely in his hands.

Carolyn took a glance at Willie and noticed the paper and pen clutched in his hand, "I'm sorry, Willie. Were you in the middle of something?"

"Hmm? Oh, no. I jus' . . . kinda had a rough night, an' every once an' I just need to put out my feelin's through . . ." he paused for a moment and his face reddened slightly, "poetry." he finally muttered out.

"Really? You write poetry? I love poetry! What kind do you write?" she asked, a faint glimmer in her eyes.

"I-It depends on my mood an' how I'm feelin'.An' this is jus' somethin' I had to write down 'cause like I tol' ya, I kinda had a rough night." he replied, "Ta tell ya the truth I'm kinda embarrassed that I said anything. I neva' tol' anyone that before, not even Jason knew."

"Willie, I think it's wonderful that you write poetry. I would actually like read it. Would you mind?" she asked, holding out her hand

"Uhh . . ." Willie stuttered, slightly in shock that someone like Carolyn would want to read his work, "N-no. I-I guess not." he said, his hand shaking a little as he placed the paper in Carolyn's waiting hand.

Carolyn took the paper and read what Willie had written:

_The Night is heartless and dark,_

_The Night is cold and cruel._

_Every time sunset arrives I pray that it isn't true,_

_And my heart fills with fear when I realize that it is._

_I dread to even fall asleep._

_How I wish the Night never existed!_

_But then the sun rises the next morning, _

_I open my eyes and it's golden light floods my bedroom._

_The warmth of the sun on my skin has put a tiny ray of hope in my heart,_

_A faint hope that his Shadow that hangs over me will pass,_

_And this Darkness and Fear that I feel will be no more._

Carolyn could hardly believe that these words had come from a man who used to have no sympathy for anyone but himself. "This is beautiful Willie. It truly is." she said, handing the paper back to Willie.

"Thanks." Willie muttered back, "I-I guess it's alright."

_**So I just got to have some faith, and just keep on givin' . . .**_

Carolyn gave a small smile, "I guess everyone is finding out there is more to you than meets the eye. You do repair work, cook, write poetry . . . you are a very talented man, Willie."

Willie returned her smile, "Thanks." he said, "I betta go, I have errands to run fer Barnabas."

"Alright Willie. Say hi to Barnabas for me. Good-bye"

"Sure, bye Carolyn." As Willie walked back to his truck, he felt a small sense of accomplishment. He was starting to make amends for his past actions, and to him, it felt good. And it was at that moment, that Willie felt a little bit different, and that he knew that things would begin to change for the better.

_**How far is Heaven? Lord can you tell me?**_


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